Heaven's Grace
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: Lin knew that killing Sigismundo would not bring O'Brian back, nor would it honour his memory. Yet she did it anyway. As things turned out however, that was a mistake...


**Heaven's Grace**

White, white, white...

That's all I see. White. Strange really. In the aftermath of a meteor shower that sent tonnes of dust into the atmosphere, thus blocking out the sun, white would be the last colour I expected to see. But now, moments after killing Sigismundo, I find myself surrounded by it.

Did I pass out? Were the Nemesis Missiles launched? Or is something else afoot?

I begin walking through the whiteness, feeling out of place. Army fatigues, long black hair that hasn't been washed in months, a pistol at my side...suffice to say my presence is an oddity, strange trips to worlds beyond Earth aside. I don't _think _I'm dead. There aren't any angels to great me and Hell tends to have a combination of fire and brimstone. Or is this purgatory? Or...wait, what's that smell? It...it...

...it reminds me of him.

The smell continues. A smell of sweat, of blood, but also of honesty, if that makes sense. But sight is the dominant sense of the five we possess, even in a world where there isn't much left to see. But this place is different. The white...some of it is blue, some of it is green, coming to represent skies and grass respectively. It's...well, it's beautiful really. Here, alone, I can admit that to myself. Or at least I can until I see something even more beautiful. Or handsome. Or welcome. There are a dozen adjectives running through my mind, all of them complementary.

"O'Brian," I whisper. The sound of my voice is sweet and nourishing. Well, maybe not the sound exactly. Rather the words. Regardless, I fall back onto my sense of sight. Uniform just like mine, gray hair, a chiselled face with the signs of age. Well, I assume so, considering that he currently has his back to me.

I begin to walk towards him, the grass giving way to my boots. He doesn't turn and I'm not surprised. I've always moved quietly and if by some chance he is unaware of my presence, I'd like to catch the captain by surprise. Never mind the sky turning from blue to gray. Never mind the grass dying as I walk past it. Never mind anything right up to the moment when he turns to face me, thunder rolling in the sky as he does so. Thunder that is present in his eyes as well...

"S...sir?" I ask.

My superior grunts, despite the handicap of being dead in the real world. Then again, I suppose the laws of physics don't mean much here.

"O'Brian? Is that-..."

"Yes," he answers bluntly. "It's me."

"Am I...are we..."

"Dead? Maybe. All I know is that before you passed out and entered whatever state of being you're in now is that someone died needlessly. Someone who you killed in cold blood."

Cold blood? What does he mean by that? He couldn't be referring to...

"Sigismundo?" I ask, not entirely sure as to what's going on. "Here I am, talking to someone who...who was my superior and you're berating me about killing _Sigismundo_? The one who killed you and would have unleashed another apocalypse on the world if I hadn't stopped him?"

O'Brian nods. "Yes Lin, I am. And a fine job you did too. Or at least fine until you had him at your mercy."

"Sir, he _killed _you!" I exclaim, unable to believe how naive the captain can be. "You sacrificed everything to save the Zephyrians and ended up-..."

"Lin, Sigismundo and others like him have killed hundreds of people, maybe even thousands," interrupts O'Brian. "Men like Sigismundo would never regret their actions. They are lost to the world."

"So? Why not kill him then?"

"Because by killing him in revenge, you set a precedent. His men have fought, killed and died for him, a number of which are in the Legion's captivity. Do they deserve to die for what they've done? Do the Zephyrians? Do dissident Laurentians? How far are you willing to go to justify murder?"

Murder...he sees it as murder...

Sigismundo warned me. The terror in the aspiring dictator was apparent, but even in his last moments, he still possessed a sense of reason. He told me that O'Brian wouldn't approve of me killing him for revenge. And now, after all the admiral did, after all the battles I fought to keep the Legion safe...he was right. I tried to honour O'Brian's memory and ended up spitting on it.

"Am...am I dead?" I whisper, a tear rolling down my cheek, finally letting emotion get the better of me.

O'Brian smiles. "No. Unconscious, exhausted, wounded, but not dead. The fight with the New Laurentian Army took a lot of strength out of you."

"And you?" I whisper. "Are you dead?"

"Yes," says the captain bluntly. "What did you expect? That Captain O'Brian could survive ground zero?"

"No..." I say slowly. "I...I haven't really had time to think."

O'Brian nods. "No...I suppose not."

Silence descends on both of us. Thunder is still in the air, thought the sky is clearing. The grass is growing. And...and the whiteness is coming back. And given how the captain glances around, he sees it too.

"I haven't much time," O'Brian says. "You'll be waking up soon."

I gaze at the grass, wishing I could dig a hole in it and wait to die. "You know this?" I ask.

"Yes. I'm here because I need to be here. Here to tell you two things that I want you to remember."

I nod. I know that I'm not worthy of the captain, of carrying on his legacy. So in this final, horrible moment, I stand ready to hear the final vindications of my failure.

"The first message is this," says the captain, coming up to within a few feet in front of me. "One that you have heard before. The saying that where there is life, there is hope."

I remain silent. The whiteness is coming back and I dare not interrupt him. The captain believed those words in life and so does Ed. All that matters is that I try to remember them as well, along with the second piece of information he has to give me. A piece of information I receive just moments before waking up, yet ones that are carried from this world to the material one...

"...I'll always be proud of you."


End file.
